That Famous Happy End
by DownToTheSea
Summary: Divorce attorney Helen Magnus is on her way home from work when a stranger claiming to be from another world falls quite literally into her life. Enchanted AU/movie fusion.
1. Once upon a Time

"YOU NEVER LOVED HIM THE WAY I DID!"

 _"_ _Me?"_ Sheila Delacourt fired back at her soon-to-be ex-husband. "It was _your_ fault we got into that crash! You always did have a lousy sense of direction…"

"Lousy?!" he echoed.

The screeching of the unfriendly exes bit into Helen's ears and she winced. Briefly, she closed her eyes, taking a long, deep breath before she opened them again. When she did, Nigel Griffin was looking at her across the conference table with a confused expression. He raised his eyebrows, and Helen looked down at her phone.

 _What are they talking about?_ it read.

Under the table, Helen texted him back. _Their old car._

Nigel glanced down at his phone and stifled a snort with difficulty, his hand flying up to cover his face.

"Alright, Sheila, Mr. Delacourt," Helen said, rising. The only acknowledgement she got from either of them was an increase in the volume of their voices. She raised her own. "I think we've made some excellent progress tonight – "

"Definitely," Nigel agreed.

"So let's call it a night, and get a fresh start tomorrow," Helen said with strained brightness, hauling her fuming client up by the elbow and towing her out of the room still hurling colorful descriptors at Mr. Delacourt.

"Eleven o'clock?" Nigel did the same, shouting to make himself heard over the din.

"Sounds good!"

The stream of insults faded once she separated the Delacourts, and Helen saw Sheila off before she turned around and went back into her office.

It was somewhat darkened – most of her colleagues had already gone home, including her assistant Will. The aquarium light was still on, giving a rather eerie blue cast to the shadowed lobby.

Helen would be leaving soon herself, but she had to pick up something from her office first: a gift she'd gotten for her son Henry.

"Not exactly what we expected we'd be doing back in the day, is it?" Nigel asked, appearing in the door of the conference room. Bruno Delacourt was gone – Nigel must have left something behind just like she had and come back to get it.

"A far cry," Helen said, hoping she didn't sound as weary as she felt.

Back in university, her little circle of friends had all dreamed of changing the world someday through their work. Helen had cherished a particularly naïve belief that she would become a defense attorney and protect the innocent. They had all four of them been so very young.

Now, she and Nigel were divorce attorneys, James an overworked police detective, and as for Helen's ex-fiancé – she preferred not to think about how things had ended with him.

Of course, Helen was proud of her accomplishments. Perhaps this hadn't been the career she'd envisioned for herself, but she was damn good at it. In the past few weeks, there had been rumors that she was being considered as a partner in the firm. It was a wonderful opportunity; Helen would have been a fool not to be excited if it went through. Still, she had found herself thinking of her university dreams a lot lately.

Nigel gave her a small smile. "Ah, don't let it get you down. We'll manage it yet, you'll see."

Helen felt her lips twitching reluctantly. "Ever the optimist," she said.

He shrugged. "One of us has to be."

She shook her head. "Did you get what you needed?"

Nigel held up his phone, nodding. "Only took me ten minutes of looking around. Damn thing's invisible."

"You know that there are apps you can get," she said with amusement.

He winked at her and got an eye roll in response. For a few minutes, they walked in silence. Helen closed the office door and locked it before they proceeded down the hall towards the elevators.

"So how are the kids?" he asked cheerfully.

Helen smiled. "They're doing well – you should come around more often, Henry wants to show you his latest inventions."

"He still in that robotics club?" Nigel asked.

She nodded. "I'm picking him up tonight, and Ashley from karate practice, though only to drop her off at Kate's. She's staying the night – ostensibly to study, but if I know them, their night will consist entirely of plotting to become this city's next masked vigilantes."

Nigel chuckled. "Sounds about right. Getting on with James, are they?" This was said casually, but there was a keen concern in his eyes that made Helen suspect he knew the answer already.

Her smile froze. "Ye-es," she said.

"You're a terrible liar," Nigel said.

"Well, I, ah…" she stammered.

Neither of her children knew James very well; he had moved back to England after college, and they had only reconnected a few months ago. Henry, at only eight, was so open and cheerful with everyone that as long as James nodded and made occasional appreciative noises during a technological monologue, he would think the world of him. Seventeen-year-old Ashley was a harder nut to crack, though – she hadn't seen Helen in a long-term relationship since her father, and she was old enough to remember how it had ended.

It was understandable, but when James made a few pointed remarks about turning up the thermostat because it seemed so chilly every time he came over, Helen had told her daughter that the constant sniping had to stop. She had been sulking over it ever since, which had made the last few weeks rather uncomfortable. Even Henry had picked up on it.

Helen had tried to tell her that this time it wasn't like her father, that their lives wouldn't be shattered and turned upside down again, but the pain of that betrayal had cut Ashley too deeply, and so far Helen could only hope that time would help.

"They'll come around," she said.

Nigel gave her a long look, then shrugged again. "So what's that?" he asked, gesturing to the brightly wrapped package in Helen's hands.

His attempt to change the subject was painful in its blatancy, but since Helen very much wanted to change the subject, she went along with it.

"It's a present for Henry," she said. "He won first prize in a competition with one of his robots last week, and I thought it would fun to celebrate."

"Oh yeah, what is it?" Nigel asked. "Some new gadgets, or…?"

"No," she said, smiling. "Something even better."

* * *

"A book?" Henry asked after tearing the paper open.

"Yes," Helen said, grinning. "Look, it's about famous scientists, see? I know how much you loved studying some of them in school, so I thought you might like to learn a little more about them."

Looking doubtful, Henry flipped the book open.

"These were all brilliant men and women who changed the world," Helen continued, warming to her subject. Henry interrupted her, skipping to a random page and reading from it.

"After his work was stolen, he died alone and penniless," he read, then looked at her with wide, sad eyes. "Mom…"

"Oh, dear, that's unfortunate." Helen flipped a page quickly. The lights of New York pulsed with a steady rhythm through the taxi windows as they rode along, playing across the book in bright, gentle flashes.

Helen skimmed over a few more pages, her eyes landing on words like "radiation poisoning," and when Henry sniffled and began, "Even the pigeons – " in a pitiful tone of voice, she closed the book firmly.

"We'll just look at that later. How was karate practice, Ashley?"

Ashley barely glanced up from her phone. "Fine," she said.

"How's Kate doing?"

"Fine."

"School go well today?"

"Fine, I guess."

"I guess?" Helen echoed with concern.

"Ed Forsythe made fun of her," Henry piped up.

"What?" Helen asked sharply.

"Aw come on, Henry," Ashley whined. "I asked you not to tell. It was nothing, Mom, really. Just some stupid stuff about that stupid career day they're having."

"Hmm," Helen said, eyeing her. "Ashley, if you're having trouble with one of your classmates – "

"I'm not," Ashley said defensively. "And I can handle it. Ed's a jerk, anyway."

Helen paused. "Well, I won't argue that, but – "

"Ash said she wanted to punch him in the face," Henry said.

"And other places," Ashley muttered darkly.

"Ashley!" Helen reprimanded. "You could hardly call that a fair fight."

"I know, I – wait, what?"

"I doubt Edward Forsythe has been studying martial arts for the last eight years," Helen pointed out.

Ashley finally looked up from her phone, meeting Helen's eyes with a rather bewildered look. Then it gave way into a mischievous smile.

"Guess not," she admitted. "It wouldn't be much of a challenge to kick his sorry – "

"Ashley," Helen said.

She rolled her eyes.

Helen smiled; but before she had too much of an opportunity to enjoy the moment, the air was split with a deafening squeal.

"Mom, Mom, loooook!"

Helen spun to follow Henry's shaking finger, pointing out the car window.

"It's a superhero, Mom!"

"Oh, Henry, I'm afraid – " Helen peered out the window. "Bloody hell," she said.

The taxi had stopped at a light. They were in a quiet part of town – Helen didn't see anyone walking around. She couldn't make out any details of the building they were sitting next to, but there was a wide, rickety scaffold climbing its sides. And, clinging to the side of the scaffolding, there was a man with lightning crackling through him.

There was no other way to describe it. At first glance Helen thought wildly that the jagged bolts were jumping _out_ of him, but that was impossible – but surely so was being struck by lightning when it was only drizzling out, while surrounded by taller buildings. It faded away before she could get a better look, leaving only an afterimage burned into her eyes.

"What the hell…" Ashley breathed, craning her neck to see past Henry and Helen.

They all stared, frozen by shock, until he slipped from the platform and Henry bolted up.

"He's gonna fall!" he cried, and flung himself out of the taxi.

" _Henry!_ " Helen shouted, desperately unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing herself after him. She reached him after only a few steps and caught him.

"Never do that again, Henry, never, do you hear me?" Helen knew she sounded panicked, and tried to clamp down on the terror that had sprung up when he'd run off. Her heart was still racing as Henry nodded.

"Can't you help him?" he asked, turning back to look up frantically.

Ashley had run up to them, looking almost as scared as Helen had felt for a moment.

"Please, Mom?" Henry added, and Helen's pride at her son's compassion made her _almost_ forget what a lecture he was in for later tonight.

"Ashley," she began.

"I got him," Ashley said.

Leaving Henry in her capable hands, Helen advanced slowly. The man on the scaffold scrabbled around for a handhold, swinging dangerously in the chilly night air. Helen felt water dripping down her collar from the rain and blinked against it.

She waited until she was almost underneath him before she called out. "Excuse me," she shouted up. "Do you – "

Then several things happened at once.

Helen took another step forward, positioning herself directly underneath him. At the same time, his grip finally failed on the edge of the scaffold and he fell with a yelp. From behind her, Helen heard Henry shout, "Catch him, Mom!" and she reached up, extending her arms with a vague idea of at least cushioning his fall so he didn't strike the hard concrete.

He didn't hit the concrete – he fell straight into her, Helen lost her balance immediately, and they both toppled to the ground in a flailing pile of limbs. _She_ hit the concrete with a groan, some rather uncharitable comments passing through her mind.

The subject of her ill-fated rescue attempt squirmed around on top of her and all Helen could think of was how damned _heavy_ he was, and how one of his bony elbows was practically stabbing her in the ribs. Using the ground as leverage, she pushed him off her, but she had forgotten that they were still entangled and all she succeeded in doing was rolling them over. At least now he was the one whose head was getting acquainted with the ground.

Until now, she hadn't been able to get a proper look at him. Now that she had, her mouth dropped open, and she felt a sudden, overpowering urge to break into hysterical laughter.

He was dressed not unlike an escapee from one of the steampunk adventure novels Ashley pretended she didn't read, or perhaps a terrible Halloween vampire; the gold buttons on his crimson waistcoat glinted in the dim light, and – oh dear God, that was a cravat. Helen snorted.

She focused on his face, and her laughter faded as she found herself looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They sparkled at her, the light behind them catching at her and driving the words she had been about to say from her lips.

"Hi," she said instead.

He grinned, displaying a row of rather sharp teeth. "Hi," he said.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

He tilted his head, considering her. "No. Are you? I mean, you kinda took the brunt of the fall…"

"I'm fine," she said shortly, pushing herself off him and standing. She considered offering him a hand up, but he scrambled to his feet with only minimal groaning.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she said with some doubt. "The lightning…"

"What? Oh, right, yeah." He waved a hand. "That was nothing. Thanks," he added in a cheery tone. "That probably would have hurt a lot more if you hadn't been around to catch me."

Helen raised her eyebrows. "Is this a frequent habit of yours? Falling off things?"

"Not usually." He looked around. "So can _you_ tell me how to get to the portal?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

He looked at her with confusion. "I'm trying to get home," he said. "I was heroically fighting the evil queen – well, sort of – well I kinda had to escape – anyway, it was a little disorientating, and I can't quite find my way back."

"To the portal," Helen repeated. Ashley and Henry had reached them and were watching this exchange, Ashley with amusement and Henry with wonder.

He nodded with an encouraging look. "Yes," he said. "Surely, living in a technologically advanced society such as this, you must be aware of their whereabouts. I've been asking around, but you wouldn't believe how unhelpful everyone's been…"

"Yes, well, welcome to New York," Helen said automatically, still trying to determine what the hell he was talking about.

"Ooh, thank you," he said with a smirk. "I have to admit this place isn't _all_ bad."

Helen raised her eyebrows. "I'm afraid I can't help you find what you're looking for," she said.

"Oh." He looked crestfallen, and Helen couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

"But where do you live?" she asked. "I might be able to help you get home."

"Andalasia," he said. Helen felt her eyebrows reach new heights.

"I'm not familiar with it," she said. "Perhaps I could call someone to come pick you up?"

"I doubt they could hear you from here," he said.

Ashley, whose shoulders had been shaking with the effort of keeping her laughter in, let out a strangled snort.

"I meant on the phone," Helen said, wondering if it was even possible that he might have been serious.

His eyes lit up. "Long-distance communication?"

"Yes…"

"Well then," he said, grinning again. "Lead the way."

Helen could have let him use her cell phone – but it was cold out, he had been outside longer than she had, and he was drenched through, his messy hair plastered to his forehead and dripping onto the strange goggles perched at a crooked angle on his head. He was starting to shiver, despite his many layers, and it felt rather heartless to let him make a call and then just leave him here as they drove away. And he was clearly quite confused, not to mention in possible need of medical attention after being struck by _lightning_. Helen felt a guilty pang as she thought about him wandering away looking for his portal before whomever he called even showed up.

"Come along," she said, jerking her head for him to follow her. "You can use the phone at home."

He trailed behind her as she made her way back to the taxi, and she cast a glance over her shoulder at him. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Nikola," he said. "Nikola Tesla."

She nodded. "Helen Magnus."

He smiled at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Helen Magnus."

* * *

Ashley was dropped off at Kate's apartment without further incident, though not without a copious amount of sarcastic remarks directed at their odd guest. Helen and Henry proceeded home with him in tow.

Henry was staring at him in mute awe the entire time; but neither of them spoke until they were inside the elevator of their apartment building, and Nikola was looking around, his own eyes wide.

"So how does this work?" he asked Helen, nearly bouncing up and down with excitement.

"The lift? Ah, cables," Helen said absently, checking her phone. She had a text from James: _Have a case to discuss with you, can I come over tomorrow morning?_

 _Of course_ , she texted back.

"Ooh, what are they made of? How are they operated? How much weight can this support? Can it – "

"How did you do it?" Henry blurted.

Nikola blinked. "Do what?"

"The lightning. You made it, I saw you."

"Oh, that," Nikola said dismissively. "Just took a little concentration."

Henry's mouth dropped open. "That's _so cool_."

Nikola beamed. "Hmm, I suppose it was, wasn't it?"

"But why'd you do it?"

Helen was fairly sure he had done nothing of the kind, so to spare Henry from any disappointment, she interrupted. "I'm sure Nikola is very tired, Henry, perhaps your questions can wait."

As if on cue, Nikola yawned.

"Where have you been staying?" Helen asked.

He yawned again. "I just got here tonight," he said. "But I'm sure I can find something – a nice dungeon, perhaps, or a hollow tree…It's a shame it's not storming." He caught Helen staring at him. "It adds great atmosphere," he added.

"A dungeon?" Helen repeated.

"A dungeon?" Henry exclaimed. "You like Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Well, I've been in my fair share of dungeons, and I don't know if I would say I _liked_ them, but all the dragons I've met have been quite interesting," Nikola said. "Much more intelligent company than most people, let me tell you."

Henry's eyes were nearly popping out, but thankfully, the elevator doors opened and Helen was able to propel the two of them down the hall and through her apartment door. She flicked the light on and stepped through with a sense of relief.

While the apartment was fairly large, the clutter left around by its resident teenager made it seem smaller than it was. Besides Ashley's things scattered everywhere, Henry had three ongoing robotics projects and about half of his toy collection carpeting the floor.

Helen glanced over at the small kitchen adjacent to the living room and grimaced; she had been so swamped with work lately that dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, and the refrigerator was quite understocked.

"Henry, go and get ready for bed, alright? I'll be there in a few minutes."

Henry scuttled off and Helen swept an arm in front of her, encompassing the view.

"Well, here we are," she said, feeling rather awkward. "You can use the phone – I'll make some tea, would you like any?"

"Ok," he agreed, in such a distracted tone Helen was certain he hadn't heard a word she'd said. "Where's the phone?"

"Ah yes, of course, it's over here," she said, leading him to the couch and pushing a dirty Doctor Who T-shirt and a sci-fi novel off the side table to free the phone underneath. "We don't use the land line much anymore."

Nikola crawled onto the couch, peering at the phone. "Fascinating," he said, picking up the receiver and examining it closely. He started unscrewing one of the black plastic covers while Helen stared at him.

"Do you need to call anyone?" she prodded.

"What?" he asked, looking over, then returned his attention to the phone. "No, I just wanted to see how it worked. So, tell me, does this – "

"I thought you said you were trying to get home," Helen said, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "Isn't there anyone you can call to pick you up?"

"No. No one."

Helen felt another pang, though she couldn't have said if it was prompted more by the words or by the soft, matter-of-fact tone they were said in.

"Where does this wire go?" he asked.

Helen sighed. "I'll call you a taxi and they can take you where you need to go, alright?" She took her cell phone out and started thumbing through her contacts.

"Alright," he murmured, yawning again, but continuing to prod at the phone. Helen wondered if she should disconnect it before he shocked himself.

She dialed the number of the taxi company and turned, taking a few steps away from Nikola. They picked up after only a few rings.

"Hello," Helen said. "I'd like to order a taxi, please – yes, I'll hold." She turned to glance back at Nikola. He had sagged onto one of her burgundy couch cushions, his eyes half closed and the broken-down phone loose in his hand, dangling limply off the couch.

As she stood there watching him, he gave a little sigh, his legs curling up and the phone dropping to the floor as his eyes closed completely. He took a deep breath in, let it out, and he was asleep.

"The address?" Helen said, distantly registering that the person on the other end of the line was talking as she kept gazing at Nikola. Where would they even take him? Helen had no clue where this "Andalasia" place was, and he hadn't been able to tell her on the ride over.

She couldn't just send him off when he had no idea where he was going, or anyone to help him. And he looked so exhausted, curled up there on her couch; his curious enthusiasm had melted away and now it seemed like he hadn't slept in days.

"Never mind," she said quietly, her mind made up. "Thank you."

She ended the call as Henry ran up. "Come along, Henry," she said. "You can sleep in my room tonight." Taking Henry's arm, she led him off, leaving Nikola asleep on the couch behind them.


	2. How Strange a Place to Be

Nikola woke up gradually, muddled awareness coming back to him at a crawl.

He had been having such a vivid dream – he'd been back in Andalasia, in the Queen's castle. The captain of the guard was chasing him through endless corridors that spun and twisted as he ran, and he couldn't find a way out. Then he had finally caught sight of a side door that led out of the castle and darted through it, only to step through into total blackness, falling through nothing as sharp crystalline shards flew at him, smothering him and choking him until he'd woken up here. Wherever here was.

His neck was stiff, and his arm was numb where it lay tucked under his body. But he was warm, and his head was pillowed on something soft. A memory floated through his head, of a slight smile and a fair amount of strength, given how easily she'd shoved him over…

 _Helen Magnus._

The woman who had offered to help him find his way home. The _stunning_ woman, even if most of their acquaintance to date had involved her glaring at him. Or maybe that was why he found her so stunning.

Nikola opened his eyes and found himself in her apartment, with bright daylight streaming through the windows. He groaned, stretching, and a thick blanket fell off him onto the floor.

Nikola blinked at it for a moment. He remembered making a few preliminary mental notes about Helen's phone last night, and then he remembered thinking how very soft and comfortable her couch was, and then he didn't remember anything at all. Had she put that over him?

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and took in his surroundings.

The room he was in seemed to be some kind of common living area for all three residents of the apartment, if the wide variety of objects scattered around were any indication. To his left was a kitchen, though filled with so many (rather dirty-looking) contraptions he barely recognized it. Before him was the door they'd come in through last night, with hallways splitting off in either direction, and a little to the side was a glossy black panel whose purpose Nikola was still trying to figure out.

While the place was certainly nicer than some of the dungeons he'd been telling young Heinrich (or was it Henry?) about, it was a bit difficult to appreciate its niceness under all the clutter.

He clicked his tongue, shrugging. It wasn't as if he were planning on staying here for any length of time. What he really needed was – ah, there it was. Nikola reached down and replaced the phone, considering it thoughtfully. If he couldn't find the portal he'd come through, maybe he could make his own. After all, he understood the theory. He hadn't wasted his time in the Queen's library. All he needed to do was figure out how to use this world's technology to achieve his goal.

The whole place hummed with an energy Nikola had rarely felt before, and had never seen this constant and contained. He itched to explore it further, but a sharp pang from his stomach reminded him that if he didn't eat something soon, he wouldn't be exploring anything.

Opening the odd-looking white cabinet in the kitchen yielded a small but sufficient bounty. He let out a delighted noise at the blast of frigid air that hit him when he tried this, and snacked on random items as he hovered around it and attempted to discover the source of the cold air.

Closing the door after he was finished, Nikola turned to examine the apartment from this angle. It really was quite filthy – he could barely even see the floor.

Nikola felt the slightest twinge of guilt. Ordinarily, he tried to pay as little attention as possible to feelings like that, but now…

If it hadn't been for Helen Magnus and her children, he'd have spent last night out in the cold and rain. Now he was capitalizing even further on their hospitality, wandering around their home and eating their food. Surely the least he could do was help them out in some small way. Then he could be on his way without thinking any more about the matter.

"Oh, fine," he said to himself, his lip curling. Striding to the window, he pushed it open and, after glancing behind him to make sure no one was listening, poked his head out and let out a soft warbling note.

Within a few seconds, a flock of pigeons were swirling around the window, and Nikola stretched his arm out to let a few land on him.

"Well, hello," he said, smiling at them. Another landed on the windowsill, cooing, and he reached down to stroke it gently with a finger. They might not be able to speak here, but he could still understand them just as well as he could back home. "I have a little job for you, if you're interested. Not as thrilling as my usual fare, I'm afraid."

The pigeons cooed again.

"I'll take that as a yes," Nikola said. "Now, let me see…" He started humming, then coughed.

"A little out of practice," he muttered. One of the pigeons flew to his shoulder and rubbed its wing against his face. "Alright, alright," he said, chuckling, and turned back to the apartment. "I get it, you're in a hurry."

 _Come, my little friends  
If you will  
You can join me in a working song  
It's a pity but it must be done_

 _We abhor each filthy chore but we're determined  
And friends, even though we're vermin  
We're a happy working throng_

Really, the pigeons did all of the work, even if Nikola doubted Helen would believe him when he told her. They soared here and there, picking things up and putting them away, dusting, showing him how to operate the water spout thing (fascinating!) and all of the other gadgets in the place. In no time at all, the apartment was nearly sparkling.

Finally, Nikola sailed out the balcony doors, taking a long look over the city. The sun was advancing in the sky, making the skyscraper windows shimmer, and a strong breeze ruffled his hair as the distant sounds of traffic drifted up to him. His pigeons followed him, their wings a steady rhythm in his ears.

 _New, and a bit alarming  
Who'd have ever thought that this could be?_

Nikola stopped, tilting his head. "Oh, wait," he said to the pigeons. "Wrong song."

They nodded helpfully and Nikola frowned. Now he'd lost his place. Oh well, he'd just go with it. Shrugging, he continued.

 _Multi-dimension travel  
Now it's so much more than simply "possibly!"_

* * *

"Mom! Mom!"

The insistent voice dragged Helen out a restless sleep, and reminded her that her alarm had gone off several snooze-button pushes ago.

"What is it, Henry?" she groaned, sitting up and swiping a hand across her eyes.

Henry tugged on her arm. "Come and see," he said.

After a brief struggle with her blankets, Helen extracted herself and, taking Henry's hand, allowed herself to be dragged out into the living room.

Her mouth dropped open. "Dear Lord," she said.

The place was _spotless_. All of the clutter had somehow vanished, leaving only a neatly folded pile of laundry on the couch. The folding table with Henry's projects on it had been organized and Helen was fairly sure that some progress had been made on at least one of them.

The sink was empty, and through a cabinet door that had been left slightly ajar, Helen could see a stack of clean dishes sparkling at her. A glance at her bookcase left her with the distinct impression that her books had been alphabetized during the night. But none of that had caused Helen's reaction.

Everywhere she looked, there were pigeons flying through her home.

"Henry, the windows!" she shouted, then ducked as one flew straight at her.

The next few minutes faded into a blur of beating wings and profanities Helen later remembered she probably shouldn't have been shouting quite so loudly, as she and Henry darted around chasing pigeons out through the windows.

When the last one had finally flown out (Helen could have sworn she saw annoyance in its tiny eyes) and she had slammed the windows shut, she leaned on them, breathing heavily and wondering what the hell her life had turned into overnight.

The sound of water running from the bathroom caught her ears and she sighed, making her way towards it. Her odd guest clearly had something to do with all of this.

She checked her phone as she walked across the living room – it was a strange feeling not to have to pick her way around the clutter anymore. There was another text from James, from five minutes ago: _Here, on my way up._

Helen swore under her breath as the doorbell rang. She was definitely going to be late for work at this rate. Well, at least he hadn't come up while the pigeons were still flying around.

"Henry – " she began.

"I'll get it," he said, and hurried to the front door, opening it a crack and peeking out. "Uncle James!"

Rubbing her eyes, Helen let him let James in and headed down the hall towards the bathroom. She was getting this hammered out with Nikola before doing anything else this morning. She was _not_ coming home tonight to another flock of pigeons in her living room.

As she approached the bathroom door, she heard a faint voice emanating from inside. Dear God, he was _singing_.

 _Look at this stuff  
Isn't it neat?  
Clean water, pressure_

There was a delighted gasp.

 _Adjustable heat!_

Helen rolled her eyes and knocked on the door. "Nikola," she called. "Nikola, we need to talk."

The water stopped along with the singing, and a few seconds later the door cracked open.

"Come in," he called in a sing-song voice, clearly from the other side of the room.

Helen pushed the door open and walked in. "How did you open – oh, bloody –"

She took a step back and averted her eyes quickly. "Perhaps you'd care to get dressed?" Her voice came out louder and more sarcastic than she'd intended, even as she felt her cheeks getting warm.

"Your shower is _amazing_ ," Nikola told her, ignoring this. "Where does the water come from?"

"Ah – pipes," Helen said, still looking determinedly at the sink. "At least you've acquainted yourself with my amazing towel cabinet."

"Where do the pipes get it?" Nikola asked, rubbing another towel over his hair. "How is it heated? How – "

"Why are there pigeons in my home?" Helen asked bluntly as another two that had been trapped in the bathroom dived at Nikola, flapping around his head before landing on his shoulders.

"They were helping me clean," he said, as if it should have been obvious that a flock of birds was helping him clean a stranger's apartment. "This place is filthy, you know."

"Oh, thank you," she said. "Your honesty is appreciated. Put some clothes on, if you'd be so kind."

Nikola grinned at her. "Anything you say."

Helen stepped aside to let him pass. The floor was damp, as Nikola had apparently forgotten to close the curtain during his raptures with her shower. As he swept by, he slipped on a puddle of water and stumbled. Helen caught his arm, attempting to pull him back up, but her own feet slid out from under her as she stepped forward, and they both crashed to the floor just outside the bathroom.

Nikola had twisted in some vain attempt to prevent her from following him to the floor, and Helen found herself only a few inches from his face for the second time in as many days.

"Hi," he said, still smirking.

Helen swallowed. Both hands had found their way to his arms as she fell, and his skin was still warm from his shower, heat radiating through her fingers.

"Hi," she said, attempting to remind herself that it was _her_ shower, before the sound of footsteps in the hall made her turn her head. "Bloody hell," she breathed.

James stood in the hall, staring at her with an open mouth.

She scrambled off Nikola and grabbed James' arm as he turned. "James, this is _not_ what it looks like," she said.

He turned again and raised his eyebrows, gesturing towards Nikola, who was hovering awkwardly behind her. "Then what is it, Helen?" he asked. "I suppose this explains why your daughter hates me."

"Actually, she hates me too," Nikola put in helpfully.

"Well, at least it's a common affliction."

"Have you tried the shower?" Nikola asked. "It's really quite – "

" _Nikola_ ," Helen said sharply. "Just – go get dressed."

Looking offended, Nikola slipped back into the bathroom.

"He's staying here?" James asked. His voice was quiet, but the betrayal in it cut through Helen.

"No," Helen said. "Well, yes, but – it's really not like that. He was lost, I was only trying to help him get home."

"Helping him find it in the shower, were you? Helen…" He exhaled heavily. "I know things have been rather strained, lately, but… If you'd found someone else, someone who made you happy, all you had to do was tell me."

" _James_ ," Helen began, frustrated, but the damage was already done.

James sighed. "I need to get to work, Helen. They just called me in on a homicide from last night. I was only stopping by to drop off some files."

"Can we talk later?" she asked hurriedly, before he walked out.

He turned from the door, a sad look in his eyes. "Of course," he said, and was gone.

Helen stood staring after him for a few moments, until Nikola poked his head out from the bathroom.

"Is he gone?" he asked. "Can you – "

"Yes, he's gone," she said bitterly. "Thanks to you."

"What?" Nikola came over to her, looking concerned. He was dressed again, and his outfit looked even more ridiculous in the fresh light of morning. "Who was that, anyway?"

"My – " Helen stopped. It felt ridiculous calling James her _boyfriend_ when they were both well into middle age. "Someone important to me, and in case it slipped your notice, he's currently under the impression that – ah, you and I… "

"Oh," Nikola said, rather staggered, then: "Oh," in an entirely different tone of voice.

"Which of course we are not," she said.

"Right," he said. "Of course."

Helen sighed, pressing her hand against her forehead. She could fix things with James later once he heard the whole story, she was sure. Until then, she had to deal with her promise to Nikola.

"Look," she said. "I'll take you to work, and we'll see if my assistant can dig up anything on how to get you home." And then he wouldn't be left alone in her apartment to probe the secrets of the oven or the microwave.

Nikola nodded, probably sensing it wasn't wise for him to speak at the moment.

"And then I'm taking you to meet James and you'll explain exactly what happened last night, and what didn't happen," she said.

He nodded again.

Feeling far more exhausted than she usually did in the morning, Helen trudged past him towards the shower.

"Hey," Nikola said quietly when she passed him. "I, uh – I'm sorry I screwed things up with – with what's-his-face."

Helen shook her head, a bitter chuckle escaping her. "Just don't touch anything while I'm in the shower."

"Nothing?" His face fell.

 _Dear Lord_. Helen went over to the wall and yanked the telephone cord out of its socket. "You can touch the phone now," she said. "Nothing else."

He gave her a blinding smile. "Deal."


	3. In the Park

"You have one of these in every building?" Nikola asked her, gazing around the office elevator with unabashed wonder.

"No," Helen said, checking her phone. Henry had been dropped off safely at school, but Ashley had yet to text her like she had promised to.

"But they're common?" he pressed.

"Ah…" _Finally_ , there was Ashley's text:

 _im at school stop worrying_

Helen sighed with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

"What do these buttons do?" Nikola asked, his hand wandering towards the alarm. Out of the corner of her eye, Helen saw a fellow passenger, a balding man in a suit, giving them an odd look.

"Nikola, don't – " Helen snatched his hand out of the air before he touched the panel. So far she'd had to keep him from messing about with her microwave, her apartment building's lift, a parking meter, and her cell phone, and at this point, it seemed safer to just keep a hold on his hand.

"Fine," Nikola said. He gave her a testy look, but didn't drop her hand. "Then can I see your cell phone again?"

Mercifully, they arrived at their floor just then and the doors slid open. The bald man hurried out before they could move, casting another look at them over his shoulder, and Helen led Nikola out after him.

She glanced at her phone – she was ten minutes late, and it was a miracle she wasn't later. Dragging Nikola over to the reception desk, she caught her assistant's eye and jerked her head. Will hurried over.

"Who's this?" he asked with a confused expression.

"Will, this is Nikola, Nikola, this is Will, my assistant. He's going to help you figure out how to get home, alright?"

"Sure," Nikola said, obviously not paying a whit of attention. He was focused on the laptop computer on the desk, and Helen felt his fingers slipping out of hers as he started inching towards it.

Helen quickly leaned over to whisper in Will's ear. "Don't let him at the electronics."

Will made a vague attempt at whispering back. "Who is this guy?"

"Long story," Helen said. "Just try to find out where he's from. Is Nigel here?"

Will nodded, waving a hand at the conference room. "They're waiting for you."

Swearing under her breath, Helen spun and strode towards the door, the sounds of her clients' bickering already drifting to her ears.

* * *

Two hours later, with only minor property damage inflicted on her office, Helen and Nigel escaped for a short break. Despite the tone of the proceedings, Helen was feeling quite satisfied with herself. She and Nigel had actually made some progress over their clients' shouts, and she was sure Will would have Nikola out of her hair by the end of the day.

As always, Will had a steaming cup of tea waiting for her when she joined him at the reception desk.

"Ah, thank you, Will," she said as she accepted it, taking a long drink. She glanced around. "Where's Nikola?"

Will had a rather harried look, and his finger shot out with more force than necessary. Helen followed its direction and saw Nikola flat against the wall with his ear pressed to it and his eyes closed.

"He's 'listening to the current,' whatever the hell that means," Will hissed.

"Right," Helen said, her brow wrinkling. "Well, did you find out how to get him home?"

"No," he said shortly. "This Andalusia place – "

"Andalasia," Helen corrected.

"It doesn't even exist," he told her. "He can't tell me if it's a city, or a country, or…"

"He doesn't know _anything_ about its location?"

"Yeah, that it's 'just past the Dark Forest and near the Sea of Forgetfulness,' which is incredibly helpful." Will rolled his eyes.

Helen sighed, leaning against the counter and pressing her hand to her forehead. When she took it away a few seconds later, Nikola was standing beside her, bouncing up and down.

"Helen, this place is amazing," he said with a wide grin.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she said. "Can you try to remember a little more about how to get home?"

"I wish I could, but you know, that is kind of the point of the Sea of Forgetfulness… Oh, I have to show you something!" Nikola beckoned her to the wall as he danced over, laying his cheek against it with a dreamy expression. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"What is? I assume you're not talking about the paint." A reluctant smile pulled at her lips. So far every conversation with him seemed like one of the oddest encounters of her life, but there was something captivating about his enthusiasm, like this world truly was new to him and he was sharing it with her. Though of course that was ridiculous.

"Just listen, Helen. I can almost touch it…" he murmured. "If I could only – "

Helen was about to ask him what he was trying to touch, and then the lights went out. The office would have been plunged into total darkness if it hadn't been for the floor-length glass windows letting sunlight in. A muddled babble of swearing and surprised cries arose.

"Oops," Nikola said.

"Oops?" Helen repeated as Will hurried over to them. "Did _you_ do this? How?"

"Not carefully enough, apparently."

"Wait, you crashed the power?" Will asked. "How?"

"I just told you, Junior," Nikola said irritably.

"Magnus." The icy voice came from behind Helen and she turned, groaning internally.

"Wexford," she greeted.

Terrence Wexford, a partner of her firm and someone who had been out for her blood since day one, gave her an appraising look. "Who's this?" he asked, gesturing to Nikola. To Helen's surprise, Nikola's bouncy enthusiasm faded and he narrowed his eyes.

Helen gritted her teeth. She couldn't very well tell Wexford she'd brought a random stranger to work with her.

"This is my…"

"Cousin," Will said.

"Friend," Helen and Nikola said at the same time.

Wexford raised his eyebrows.

"From out of town," Helen said.

"And he's responsible for the power outage?" Wexford asked coldly.

"No," said Nikola.

"Yes," said Will.

Helen sighed.

Wexford turned his glare on her again. "I don't remember this sort of behavior being in your job description, Magnus. We might need to reconsider your position on this case."

Helen tightened her jaw, but before she said or punched anything she'd regret later, the lights flickered back on.

"Thank God," Will muttered.

"Nikola," Helen said, turning around and grabbing his arm. "Come with me."

She could feel Wexford's eyes on her all the way to the lift, but thankfully Nikola didn't say a word as she pulled him inside.

Both of them remained silent as they made their way across the lobby and through the glass doors into the courtyard beyond. Helen squinted against the sunlight.

She took Nikola over to the fountain in the center of the courtyard and stopped, letting the light mist from the fountain spray over them.

"Helen," he started.

"Look," she cut him off. "As much as I'd like to know what you did to the power up there, you can't just go around messing about with whatever you feel like, do you hear me?"

"But it's so _fascinating_ ," he said.

"Yes, and it's my job," she snapped. "You've already done your best at ruining things with James, are you trying to get me fired as well?"

"No!" he insisted. "I mean, 'fired' seems to have a negative connotation, and I'm not trying to screw anything up for you, but Helen, this is so much more than I ever dreamed I'd discover – "

Helen let out a long, sharp exhale. "Nikola..." Opening her purse, she dug through it until she found her emergency cash supply. She yanked it out and thrust it at him. "Just take this and go, please."

The words tumbled out in a rush of anger and frustration. Nikola stepped back, such a hurt expression in his eyes that Helen immediately regretted it, but her hand remained outstretched, frozen in front of her.

"Of course," he said after a moment. He took the money, his fingers brushing over hers, and hesitated. "Thank you," he said quietly. Then he spun and hurried off before she could catch a good look at his face.

Helen stood in the mist from the fountain, watching him go with a hollow ache somewhere in her chest. Just yesterday she'd been lamenting the course of her life taking her away from her old dream of helping people, but now that she had an opportunity, she was acting like a coward – afraid of pissing that bastard Wexford off, no less.

Had she really changed so much since college, content in her own comfortable life without looking to anyone else? Was this the kind of person she wanted to be, for herself or for Ashley and Henry?

"Bloody hell," she muttered, and darted after Nikola. She only had to go a few yards before he came back into view. He had headed into the park adjacent to the square, but only a few feet down the path had stopped to chat with a little old lady feeding pigeons on a park bench.

As Helen watched, one of the pigeons fluttered up to land on his shoulder. Nikola turned his head and smiled at it before leaning down and handing the woman _all_ of the cash Helen had given him and taking her small bag of seeds with a nod. Helen's eyes went wide. The woman, looking a little dazed, got up and left as Helen rushed up.

"Nikola, what do you think you're doing?"

Nikola turned to her with a broad smile. "Helen, you're back!" He held up the bag of seed. "Do you want to join me?"

Another pigeon flew up to perch on his other shoulder and cooed at him.

"Now now, wait your turn," he said. "What do you say, Helen?"

Helen stared at him. He had just overpaid that woman by – she didn't want to think about how much he had overpaid her by, and now he was presenting his tiny, cheap bag of birdseed to her as if it were a treasure fit for a queen.

A slow smile crept over her face, amusement gradually overpowering her disbelief, and Helen let out an abrupt snort of laughter.

"I say you'd better hold onto that," she advised. "They like you more than me."

He grinned. "Right now they do. I bet you could change their minds if you fed them." He sat down on the freshly-vacated bench and tossed out a handful of seed. Immediately, another flock of pigeons appeared around his head.

Helen sat down next to him. "Are you some kind of pigeon whisperer?" she asked, chuckling.

Nikola shook the bag at her. "Come on."

Her lips twitching, Helen reached in and drew out a handful, scattering it slowly around their feet. The general cooing increased slightly in noise.

"See? They like you already," Nikola said. He threw out another handful as a breeze sprang up, ruffling his hair around his ridiculous goggles.

"Nikola…" Helen poured another handful onto the pavement, studiously avoiding Nikola's eyes. "You can stay with me for as long as you need."

He turned to look at her with surprise. "Really?"

"On two conditions: no more of whatever you did up there with the power. And explain yourself to James."

Nikola nodded eagerly. "And he won't have a problem with, you know, me being there?"

"Of course not," Helen said. "We only need to explain the situation to him. He'll listen."

Nikola gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. "When he's not walking in to see you on top of a half-naked stranger in your apartment, I assume."

"Well, now that you mention it," she said acerbically.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

Helen shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

"I'd say I'll try to avoid the situation in future, but…"

"You may want to stop while you're ahead."

"Right."

They fed the pigeons in silence for a while. She should probably be getting back to work, she reflected, but it might be wise to give Wexford some more time to cool down. On her way back she'd grab something from one of the park vendors and call it a lunch break. Even if her moral high ground for chiding Ashley about poor meal decisions might be diminished for a while.

Nikola broke the silence after a while. "Helen," he said, his tone more serious than what Helen had come to expect from him. "Thank you, for everything."

Rather awkwardly, Helen patted the hand lying beside her on the park bench. "Don't concern yourself about it. I said I'd help you get home, and that's what I intend to do."

He smiled at her, his clear blue eyes vivid in the shaft of sunlight falling through the trees and striking their bench. Helen allowed her hand to rest on his, letting his hand and the sun warm her fingers from above and below.

"But I'll need your help," she continued. "Will couldn't find any information about your home – are you certain you can't remember anything about how you got here?"

Nikola closed his eyes, groaning and leaning back against the bench with a frustrated sigh.

"I'll take that as a no," she said. Out of sympathy she had attempted to conceal the dry humor from her voice, but a little slipped through nonetheless. Nikola's lips twitched.

"Well, perhaps going back to where we found you might help. I have tomorrow off, what do you say?"

Nikola tilted his head thoughtfully. "Huh, that might not be a bad idea." He gave her a mischievous smirk. "I should have known you'd be brilliant, too."

Helen rolled her eyes.

"I can't promise anything," he warned.

"It's a start," she pointed out. "And while we're out, we need to get you something else to wear."

He frowned, offended. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Helen stifled a snort with difficulty. She could practically hear Ashley saying, _You look like Dracula had a baby with Big Ben_ , but restrained herself to, "You may be here a while, and I doubt you'll want to wear the same clothes every day."

He eyed her like he could tell she was holding back. "…Fine."

"I'm so glad you agree." A bit more dryness snuck in. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get something to eat and get back to the office."

"Ooh, can I come with you? I'd love to see more of your office." Nikola bounded up, the last handful of seed scattering around his feet. The pigeons kept eating placidly, undisturbed by his movement.

Interpreting this as "I'd love to mess around with your office's power some more," Helen hesitated. "Perhaps you might want to remain out here," she said. "I'd rather keep you away from Wexford for the time being."

"Oh, right." Nikola sat back down, looking rather deflated. A couple pigeons hopped around his feet with an impatient air – looking for more food, no doubt. "Pompous windbag."

Helen laughed at that.

"You have to work with him?"

"Occasionally," she said, grimacing. She was about to take her leave when she remembered Nikola had yet to eat lunch too. "Actually, come with me."

Nikola raised his eyebrows as he stood beside her. "Changed your mind? As much as I'd enjoy taunting Wexford, I don't want to get you 'fired.'"

"Not about Wexford," she said, chuckling. "But we both need to eat, and we might as well do it together. Tell me, have you ever had a hot dog before?"


	4. Next Steps

"That's where I fell," Nikola said, waving a hand at the rickety scaffolding from a few nights before.

"I'm aware," Helen said. "I still have the bruises."

Nikola winced, retreating to his side of the taxi they had called. "Sorry." Ashley and Henry were crammed between them, Ashley looking rather stormy about the arrangement.

"So, is this ringing any bells?" she asked. "Where did you come from to get here?"

Nikola leaned over again to peer out of her window. Everything looked different in the daytime – if he looked up too high, he had to shield his eyes against the glare from the skyscraper windows.

But up wasn't where he needed to look. He concentrated, trying to remember the direction he'd taken from the portal. It had all been such a chaotic blur of light and sound and sensation, all he could think to do in the first few minutes was stumble anywhere he saw an open space.

"Right at the corner," he said at last.

Stopping every couple of blocks for Nikola to get his bearings, they eventually made their way to a busier section of town, where crowds of people hurried along the sidewalk, ducking in and out of shops and restaurants.

It was at one of the busiest intersections that Nikola lost the thread of memory he had been following. Helen had the taxi pull over and they all stepped out onto the curb, in front of one of the many stores running up and down the street.

As Helen paid the taxi driver, Nikola let out a sharp exhale, casting around for a landmark.

Henry was sticking close to Nikola, but his attention was focused on the store window, which proclaimed in large letters that it had some kind of new game about a war in the stars, and was offering free gifts with each purchase. Ashley was standing nearby, watching Henry. Her mood had vastly improved since beginning something she called "livetweeting" the afternoon, and she was chuckling at her phone apropos of nothing at random intervals.

Helen gave him a concerned look as she came over.

"I don't remember any of this," Nikola explained, frustration breaking through his voice.

"It's alright," Helen said. "The city can be a bit overwhelming if you're not used to it."

It was embarrassing, really – he prided himself on his memory, but he had been so dazed by the journey he couldn't even remember the basic direction he'd come from. Still, he managed to return Helen's reassuring smile.

He gave a shrug. "Well, you know, last week my only company was a bunch of woodland animals, so… I could use a guide."

He extended his hand with a hopeful look. Helen raised her eyebrows. Nikola dropped it immediately. "Ok."

"Just take a minute, look around," she said. "Maybe something will jog your memory."

"Right," he muttered, and pivoted slowly, trying to take everything in and match it against his memory from the other night.

While he was looking around, Henry peered at the curb, drifting away from them toward it as something caught his eye. As soon as Helen spotted him, she broke away from Nikola and followed him, but he managed to pluck whatever had gotten his attention from the base of the curb as she pulled him back.

"Henry, what have I told you about wandering off?" Helen began, but his attention was focused on his discovery: a gleaming purple crystal that threw glittering shards of violet light against his hand as he turned it this way and that in the sun. "What is that?" she said.

"It's a lightsaber crystal," Henry said, his eyes wide.

"Kinda looks like one," Ashley said as Helen started shaking her head. "Is that one of the promotion things they're handing out?" she asked, jerking her head back toward the shop.

Helen looked at the poster. "I suppose it could be."

Nikola glanced over and felt his breath catch. "No," he whispered. "It's mine." He'd thought it was lost forever, shaken loose somewhere in the void of the portal. At least his luck wasn't all bad.

"Yours?" Helen raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, mine," he said. "Can I see it?" Taking the crystal from Henry's upraised hands, he held it up to the light. A closer examination told him that by some miracle it had been unharmed by the traffic of the city. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"What is it?" Helen asked.

"Part of an experiment I was doing," Nikola said. It was a half-truth and he felt a twinge of guilt, but Helen probably wasn't interested in his prior misadventures. It wasn't as if they could affect him here. Hopefully.

"What's inside?" Henry asked, craning his head for a better look.

Nikola beamed, displaying it a little closer so Henry could see the small, distorted worm inside. "Nasty little bug from back home," he said. "Likes to attach itself to your neck and suck your blood out."

"Delightful," Helen said as Ashley and Henry leaned closer with twin murmurs of "Cool…"

"Oh, don't worry," he assured her. "It's frozen in there."

"Like an insect in amber," she said.

"Exactly."

"So what were you doing with it?"

"Nothing," he said. "It was the crystal that – that I was interested in. I think it has – "

The fascinating monologue he was about to deliver was interrupted by a deafening noise from behind him. It was an explosive rattle, repeating in a rapid-fire pattern that jolted through his head.

He lurched forward and Helen caught him by the arms, steadying him.

"Easy," she said, turning him around and speaking in his ear to be heard. "It's only construction work."

Across the street, a few people were milling around a piece of machinery that seemed to be behind that huge noise. Nikola stared at it breaking into the concrete beneath them. "Hey, do you think they'd let me have a look at that?" he shouted to Helen over the din.

"No!" she shouted back.

Nikola turned back to the construction crew, narrowing his eyes. Just past the workers was a circular hole in the ground with a metal plate covering it. It was hard to tell from this distance, but the plate looked like it was worked with decorative scrolls and vines that were very familiar.

"Helen," he said as the machinery stilled for a moment. "Helen, I remember now, I came through there." He pointed, his heart thudding in his ears as everything but his destination faded from view.

"Through the sewer?" Helen asked with a skeptical look.

"No, no, that's where the portal was." Hope rushing over him, Nikola pulled his arm out of Helen's grip and ran, weaving between stopped traffic as he crossed the bustling street.

"Nikola!" she shouted, taking off after him after a brief look to Ashley, who moved closer to Henry.

"Nikola, wait," she called, but he had already skidded to a halt, ducking through the barrier and falling to his knees next to the plate. As he attempted to get his fingers under it, Helen caught up to him and a few construction workers came over.

She blocked him from their path, striding in front of him and folding her arms. "Good morning, gentlemen," she said smoothly. "My apologies for the interruption. My friend here is new to the city, and, ah…"

He could hear her falter slightly, trying to think of an explanation as he frantically pried the plate off, letting it fall with a metallic thud as he leaned forward into the opening.

"He was curious to examine – "

"It's gone," Nikola said softly. There was only a dark, dank tunnel underneath him, nothing at all like the swirling portal he remembered. His excitement vanished and he fell back, feeling drained.

Helen turned back to him. "What?"

He raised his face to meet her eyes. "The portal, it's gone."

Her mouth opened slightly, sympathy filling her expression even if he could tell she had never expected him to find anything in the first place.

"Portal?" one worker muttered.

"Not again," another sighed.

Helen came over, kneeling next to him as she looked into the opening. "You're sure this is the right place?"

He nodded, gesturing helplessly. "I never expected it to be stable, but…" He had hoped it might last long enough. It had only been a few days since he had come through. How much time had he missed it by? Hours? Minutes?

Nikola swallowed, his throat tight. This had been his best shot at getting back. It could take him years to harness this world's technology to create a new portal. As fascinating as this place was, he would have preferred to visit it on his own terms, not be trapped here against his will for who knew how long.

He felt a gentle pressure on his arm and realized Helen had slid a hand over it. Rubbing his shoulder, she looked back at where Henry and Ashley were waiting.

"I'm sorry, Nikola," Helen said quietly. "We'll get you home, I promise."

He gave her a faint smile. "Thank you, Helen."

"Now," she said, pulling him up to his feet with a glance at the construction team, eyeing them with odd expressions. "It appears that you'll be staying with us for a little while longer, so we should make a few stops on the way home."

* * *

"You know, I did have something rather more casual in mind," Helen said as they left the store. After _three_ _hours_ engaged in a grueling search, Nikola had finally settled on something that was "less awful than the rest, I guess."

"This _is_ casual," Nikola said, brushing down his brand-new fitted waistcoat and giving his jacket a swish. Despite his lack of enthusiasm in the last few hours of clothes shopping, he was beaming, and kept running a finger over the trim on his lapel.

Helen pinched the bridge of her nose. "And what makes you say that, exactly?"

He looked at her in surprise. "No cravat, of course."

Ashley snorted.

"Well, that clears everything up nicely," Helen said. She held Henry's hand in one of hers, the bag of Nikola's new acquisitions swinging in the other as they walked along the sidewalk.

She had insisted on him wearing one out of the store, as his previous outfit was starting to draw some attention. It was bundled in with the rest of the clothes now, safely out of sight. Nikola stood out slightly less, although Helen wasn't spying very many other weekend shoppers out wearing three-piece suits.

"I still don't think there was anything wrong with what I was wearing," Nikola grumbled.

The less said about that the better, Helen thought. Naturally, Ashley disagreed.

"Dude, you looked some kinda vampire B-movie extra," she said, chortling.

Nikola leaned closer to Helen and whispered in her ear. "What's that, is that good? Cool, right?"

"Not in the slightest," Helen whispered back.

Nikola pulled back, giving her a look that was half-offended, half-pleading. "Dashing?" he tried. "Debonair?"

"Afraid not."

He pouted.

"Where did you get that stuff, anyway?" Ashley continued.

Nikola bristled with the fresh insult. "I'll have you know 'that stuff' was made out of the finest spider silk in all of Andalasia."

Ashley caught Helen's eyes, jerking her head towards Nikola with a "is this guy for real" look. Helen raised her eyebrows.

"Spider silk?"

"Yes," Nikola said, raising his chin as if daring her to continue. "What, you don't have that here?"

"Ah, no." Helen took a sidelong glance into the bag she carried. Was she imagining it, or was there a faint shimmer to the fabric…?

She looked back at Nikola, who had his arms crossed and a sulky look plastered on his face.

"Regardless, I'm glad we found something for you," Helen said, glossing over how long it took to accomplish that goal. "It's nearly lunch time."

Nikola perked up. "Lunch? Hey, are there any more of those hot dog things around here, by any chance?"

Helen laughed. "More than you would believe. Although I was planning on something slightly healthier."

"Aww…" Nikola looked disappointed.

"Please, Mom?" Henry begged, tugging at her sleeve.

Helen looked from Henry to Nikola, both giving her pleading looks, and sighed.

* * *

"But if it's all prepared using the same method, why isn't anything else called fries?" Nikola asked an hour later.

After she had agreed to hot dogs for lunch, Nikola had hinted wistfully that he might enjoy feeding the park pigeons again too, and after how upset he'd been that morning, Helen couldn't find it in her to turn down his request. So they had returned to the park outside Helen's office and were now gathered on a picnic table, munching hot dogs while Henry told Nikola about all the delicious fast foods he had missed out on in Andalasia.

Henry had accepted Nikola's story of being from another world instantly, deeming it "awesome" and asking him if he knew how to get to Coruscant. Naturally, Helen was having a bit more trouble with it. Still, she had to admit he really did act like he wasn't from this planet sometimes.

Although the day was windy, the sun was shining and the temperature moderate, which meant the park was a popular destination that day, even busier than it had been yesterday. Louder than their fellow park-goers was the ever-present flock of pigeons surrounding Nikola, concentrated around his feet as he occasionally dropped a handful of seeds on the ground.

"I really couldn't say," she said, catching Henry's napkin before the wind carried it off the table. "They're not called fries where I'm from."

"Oh, where are you from?" Nikola asked, apparently delighted to find out more about Helen.

Thankfully, his attention was diverted by something he caught sight of over her shoulder. Behind her, Helen heard a faint beating of wings growing louder until yet another small pigeon swept over her head and landed on Nikola's arm.

"Hello there," he said to it. "Have news for me, hmm?"

Helen watched curiously as it bounced up and down on his arm, cooing. How on earth had he trained it to find him in the middle of the city after only a day here?

"Really?" Nikola's face fell, an echo of this morning's disappointment flashing through his eyes.

The pigeon gave another coo and nestled against Nikola's arm, rubbing its tiny beak against his sleeve.

"Thanks," he said to it, and it gave him a final nuzzle before flying off.

Nikola looked up at Helen, who raised her eyebrows.

"I asked them to look around the city for another portal," he told her, crossing his arms and glancing over at the pond, sparkling with reflected sunlight. "No luck."

Helen could have pointed out that she might expect little progress when pigeons were his only apparent resource, but it hardly seemed tactful. She cleared her throat instead, feeling rather awkward.

"Unless you happen to have one stashed in your apartment somewhere," he added glumly.

"I think I would have noticed," Helen said.

Nikola sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'll have to build it." He brightened somewhat. "Well, at least this'll give me a good chance to take a look at all that technology you've got kicking around this place. And enjoy your company some more, of course," he added with a wink at Helen.

She rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched.

"Can I help you build it?" Henry asked eagerly, oblivious to this exchange.

Nikola blinked, throwing Helen a bewildered look. "Uh…"

"Henry is quite the budding inventor." Helen beamed at Henry, her voice dripping with pride.

Nikola gave a slight chuckle. "Oh, I really doubt…" As he spoke, Helen angled a meaningful glare at him. Nikola swallowed and took a second look at Henry, who was nearly glowing.

"Alright, sure," he conceded. "You can help walk me through your tech, but I'm doing the detailed work, alright?" He looked at Helen, giving her a little shrug.

Henry's face lit up. Helen smiled approvingly at Nikola. Of course, she didn't really believe he would be able to build an interdimensional portal – in fact, she would never have let Henry work with him if she thought they'd be doing anything dangerous – but she knew how much Henry loved his inventions. It would make his year to be able to talk to a fellow engineer about them, even if only for a short time.

Nikola smiled back at her, and Helen was struck again by how very blue his eyes were in the afternoon sun.

She tore her gaze away with difficulty, concentrating on the task ahead. "Very well then. We'll stop for parts on the way home."


	5. Power Outage

"Easy, Nikola," Helen said. She was watching from her chair, a book in her hands, as Nikola paced a hole in the carpet. "He's not going to murder you."

She was referring to James, who was coming over that night for dinner to meet Nikola more properly than he had a few days ago. He had returned her calls on the way home from the park, and Helen had explained everything. (Nikola hadn't overheard much, but he had the distinct impression James had laughed long and heartily after hearing his full story.)

"Yeah, I know." Nikola wasn't all that convinced, but he didn't want to put a bad face on in front of Helen. "I'm not worried about that."

"Then what are you worried about?"

Nikola was worried because even if he succeeded in building a device to bridge the gap between this world and his, he had begun to glean from Henry that the average person didn't really have access to the kind of energy he was going to need to power it. Using his _own_ power was a possibility, but Nikola wasn't entirely certain he would survive the process.

Which seemed to defeat the purpose, besides being kind of depressing.

He was worried because Helen had been kind to him, kinder than anyone had for a long, long time, and he was really hoping to avoid screwing her life up any more than he already had. People weren't really his thing, and James was hardly predisposed in his favor. He didn't want to cause another rift between them tonight.

"Nikola?" Helen pressed, and he realized he hadn't answered her question.

"Hot dogs," he said. " _Why_ are they called that? It's mind-boggling."

Helen laughed. "I take it Henry hasn't introduced you to Google yet," she said.

Nikola was about to ask what that was when the doorbell rang and he stopped in his tracks, swallowing nervously. As Helen rose smoothly to answer it, he followed her, making sure to keep a few feet of distance between them. The last thing he needed was to trip or something and repeat their earlier disaster. Not that the idea didn't have a certain appeal…

"James, come in," Helen said, opening the door and kissing him on the cheek. Nikola's throat tightened uncomfortably. Nerves, no doubt.

James entered, looking quite different than he had earlier. For one thing, he was smiling this time. His lips actually twitched when he saw Nikola.

"Ah, so this is our visitor from another planet?" he said.

Nikola stuck his hand out. "Nikola Tesla," he said.

James took it. "James Watson. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. This time," he added with another hint of amusement.

"Yeah, uh. About that. Sorry for, you know…" Nikola trailed off awkwardly.

"Apology accepted," James said, with no apparent trace of bitterness. "I believe I owe one myself."

"Well, thank you." Nikola inclined his head.

Helen stifled a snort behind her hand.

" …To Helen," James said dryly. "I'm afraid I overreacted, and for that I am sorry." He swept Helen's hand up to kiss the back of it. She gave a relieved little smile, her eyes twinkling.

Well, his mood had certainly improved since the last time Nikola had seen him. (Though he supposed it made sense, given the circumstances of their last meeting.)

Nikola should have been relieved – hadn't he just been worrying about messing Helen's life up? No need to be concerned about that now, apparently. Still, instead of receding, the tightness from earlier was spreading from his throat to his chest as he watched them. He looked away to discover Ashley had just come into the hall and was watching him with a curious look.

"The other morning, after I stopped here I needed to go to the morgue for a victim identification." James grimaced. "As you can imagine, it doesn't put one in the best of moods."

An odd expression crossed Ashley's face. She pursed her lips, looking troubled.

"No harm done," Helen said. "I appreciate your giving Nikola a second chance."

With one last curious look at Ashley, Nikola turned back to Helen and James.

"Of course," James said. "I must admit, I'm curious to hear your story firsthand."

"Sure," Nikola said. "It's quite the thrilling tale, let me tell you. Helen was especially magnificent," he couldn't resist adding with a grin. Behind James, he could see her roll her eyes.

"Dinner will be ready shortly," Helen said before James could answer. "Perhaps we might talk more comfortably in the living room until then."

* * *

Surprisingly, the dinner wasn't a complete disaster. All things considered, it actually went pretty well. After hearing Nikola's (exhilarating) story, James seemed to share Helen's opinion – that was, he didn't believe it. Still, it only seemed to increase his regard for her.

"That's Helen for you," he had said, chuckling. "Always picking up strays." Helen had stiffened slightly at that and James seemed to realize it, covering her hand with an apologetic air.

The rest of the night consisted of Helen and James talking about work, Ashley glaring daggers at James and Nikola, and Henry contentedly eating macaroni and cheese.

Nikola had even found himself feeling sorry for James at one point, when he had expressed frustration at just how many cases were left unsolved, how many victims were denied justice. Nikola knew a little bit about that; judging from the solemn mood that descended over the table afterward, so did everyone else present.

Thankfully, Helen changed the subject and lifted everyone's spirits with an imitation of someone called Nigel that had everyone, even Ashley, in stitches, and the conversation turned back to lighter topics afterwards.

After James left, Helen put Henry to bed, said good night to Ashley, and came out into the living room where Nikola sat on the couch, turning over a battery in his hands.

"Well, was that as dreadful as you'd feared?" she asked with a smile.

Nikola shrugged. "He could _still_ be plotting to kill me, you know."

She laughed. "Unlikely, I think. He liked you."

Nikola raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Granted, James had been quite friendly this time around, but Nikola still got the impression he wasn't too keen on the current living arrangements.

"Trust me. James and I are more alike than he lets on." Helen nodded at him. "He liked you."

There was a pause.

"Are you saying that because _you_ like me?" Nikola asked, grinning.

Helen leaned forward, a trace of mischief making its way into her smile. "Don't let it go to your head. Good night, Nikola." Still smirking, she turned and disappeared into the hall.

"Good night, Helen," he said softly.

* * *

The next day arrived dark and rainy, water sheeting down onto the city streets. It was the kind of day Helen usually loved to curl up at home with a nice cup of tea and a good book.

Unfortunately, that morning her enjoyment of a nice cup of tea had been slightly hampered by Nikola absconding with the tea kettle because it was "interesting" and making noises about melting it down to see if he could use the materials in his portal.

Helen had put a stop to that. Firmly.

Now, she was sitting in her armchair, her hard-won tea at her elbow and a very interesting historical novel in her hands. Henry was still showing Nikola around the apartment's gadgets, and Ashley had yet to make an appearance.

A flash of light through the gap between curtain and window heralded the following crack of thunder by only a second.

"Well well," Helen overheard Nikola say admiringly after another crash of thunder. "You people get quite the storms here, don't you?"

"Sometimes," Henry said. "Mom says it rained more in England."

"England? Is that where she lived before she came here?" Nikola sounded curious. He had asked Helen a little about it after their picnic yesterday, but she hadn't been very forthcoming. She loved her home, but talking about her past was sure to lead to memories she'd much rather forget.

"Uh huh. And Uncle James, too. And – "

"Hey, Henry," Ashley interrupted, appearing in the hallway with a furrowed brow. "Did you guys do something to screw up the internet?"

"Nah, why? Is it down?"

"It's really slow," she said testily.

"The internet?" Nikola put in.

"Were you downloading Operation Paranormal again?" Henry asked in the world-weary tone of an eight year-old dealing with his big sister.

"What? No," Ashley said, then muttered, "The Adjuster."

Henry sighed.

"Fine, I'll pause it," she snapped, and disappeared back into her room.

"What's the Adjuster?" Nikola asked into the silence following.

"You don't know what the Adjuster is?" Henry gaped.

* * *

Two hours later, Nikola slipped into the living room, carrying a stack of books and DVDs taller than his head.

"Helen," he hissed, barely visible behind the pile. "I need your help."

Helen put down her cup of tea with a small sigh. Nikola had interrupted her in the middle of a rather exciting passage of her book. Ordinarily, Helen was more of a non-fiction reader, but she sometimes had a weakness for the daring exploits of the fictional Lady Bancroft, Victorian England's answer to James Bond. Right now, the dashing spy was about to break into a club filled with enemies to find and stop a mad scientist.

"What is it?"

Nikola flopped down onto the couch, pushing his new collection over into a messy pile onto the next cushion. "Look at all that," he said dejectedly. "It'll take me _months_ to get through."

Helen closed her book. "I'm sorry, Nikola," she said. "I know it'll take a while to learn about our technology, but – "

"What?" Nikola asked, giving her a confused look. "Oh no, I'm not talking about your technology. No, that all seems simple enough. I'll just need some time to work with it." A dismissive hand wave accompanied this puzzling statement.

"Then what?" Helen asked, trying to crane her head around for a better look.

"Dungeons and Dragons," Nikola said as though it were obvious. "Marvel Comics, DC, Star Wars, Star Trek… I think there was another "star" one I'm forgetting about." He gestured at the pile. "Where am I even supposed to start?"

Helen was very glad she hadn't taken a sip of tea before he started talking. She snorted, chuckling into her hand while Nikola looked bristly.

"It's alright, Nikola," she assured him after a few moments, still laughing. "Henry and I will help you through it. And I know Henry's enthusiasm is contagious, but I doubt he expects you to learn everything there is to know in a few days."

"Yeah," Nikola said, and promptly reached for the Dungeons & Dragons Player's Handbook. After opening it, he looked up to catch Helen's raised eyebrow. "I may have…sort of promised to read this for an hour before starting work on the portal," he muttered.

"Henry can be very persuasive," she said with amusement. She watched him with his nose buried in the manual for a while, feeling a smile lingering on her face.

The storm had been growing worse over the last few hours – it was nearly pitch black outside, except for the occasional flash of lightning. Every now and then, a roar of thunder sounded that Helen could practically feel in her bones.

The adventures of Lady Bancroft were waiting on Helen's lap, and she reached for her cup of tea. Another crack of lightning struck somewhere in the distance, followed simultaneously by a boom of thunder and the lights going out.

"Bloody hell," Helen muttered. She hadn't expected the storms to be this bad. Thankfully, the backup power would no doubt kick on soon.

"Mom!" Henry was in his room, sounding scared. He was afraid of the dark, and his door had been closed.

"It's ok, Henry," she called back, rising as well as she could in the sudden darkness. "I'll be right there."

She took a step forward and tripped over something left on the floor. Either Nikola had missed it during his cleaning spree or it had quickly reacquired its former position.

"Was this your doing?" she hissed to Nikola.

"Hey, don't blame me," he answered. Her vision was starting to adjust and she was starting to be able to make out shapes, so she saw it when his head turned towards her. "Hang on."

He fumbled for a moment on the end table as Helen took a few more tentative steps forward, wondering why the hell the generator hadn't come on yet. There was a thud as Nikola knocked something over, followed by a triumphant "aha!"

The lamp on the end table turned on, its light appearing intensely bright in the rest of the darkness. Relieved, Helen snatched the lamp from Nikola and hurried towards Henry's room.

It was only after she had calmed Henry down and the backup power finally turned on a few minutes later that she realized the significance of what had just happened.

Somehow, Nikola had turned the lamp on before the rest of the building had power. For that matter, Helen must have yanked the cord out of the wall when she left the room, but it had still stayed on.

At her office, Helen had just assumed Nikola had wandered off and messed with something he shouldn't have before coming back in time for the delayed reaction. All his talk of being able to sense the electric current she had waved off as part of his fascination with technology. But now…

And then there was the night they met, the lightning strike that should have been impossible, unless the lightning hadn't come from the storm. If, somehow, it had come from Nikola, then everything she'd seen made sense.

It was impossible, but Helen couldn't deny the proof staring her in the face. And if this part of his ridiculous story were true, then just maybe, at least some of the rest of it was too.

It was about time she had a long talk with Nikola about his home.

* * *

 **A/N: The idea of Nikola messing around with/melting down the tea kettle belongs to whatsasophie on Tumblr, many thanks for allowing me to use it!**


	6. Alfredo's

**A/N:** **An update! I'm really sorry for leaving this so long! I'm afraid it might be a while before the next one, too, as I'll be busy with Nanowrimo for a while... But I really wanted to get at least one more chapter of this up beforehand. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _When the moon hits your eye  
Like a big pizza pie  
That's amore_

The music blared over the tinny old speaker as the four of them stood waiting in line. Alfredo's restaurant was a fixture in Helen and her children's life. Ever since they had moved here six years ago, they had visited regularly every week. It was perfectly situated only a block away from their apartment building, Helen was friends with the owners, who spoiled Henry and Ashley rotten, and the food was _delicious_.

"Table for four," Helen requested at the front of the restaurant, and guided Nikola over to the side where they could wait to be seated out of the way of the other customers.

"You know, I'm going to need my phone back eventually," she told him. Henry had finally instructed him in the finer points of Google, and Nikola had been glued to it ever since. Helen had only managed to drag him out of the apartment by letting him use her phone to get on the internet.

"Mmmm."

"Nikola."

"Just let me get through these articles, Helen," he pleaded.

Helen peered at the screen. "You have forty-seven more tabs open. I assume you're wanting to eat sometime tonight?"

"Well…" Nikola looked as if he was giving the matter serious thought.

"That's it," she said, plucking the phone out of his hands as he gave a muted cry of protest. "You'll get it back after dinner."

"But Helen – "

"Dinner first," she said firmly.

Nikola crossed his arms, glaring at her.

The rain had let up by evening, but it was still drizzling steadily out, and the usual Sunday evening crowd was diminished. They only had to wait for a short time before a table opened up. Nikola was forced to stop sulking when he was handed a menu and had to lean over to ask Helen what everything was and did she have any recommendations.

"Pizza bread," Ashley said before she could answer, her enthusiasm for Alfredo's food apparently overriding her dislike of Nikola.

"Spaghetti's good," Henry put in. Helen had to raise her eyebrows at that, since he usually had to be dragged kicking and screaming to anything with the barest suggestion of tomatoes in it. She didn't have time to wonder beyond that, because Nikola had snagged her phone again from where she had laid it on the table.

She promptly snatched it back.

"Aww, Helen." He gave her a betrayed look. "While we're waiting for the food – "

"You haven't even ordered yet," she pointed out.

"Fine," he said, sighing theatrically. "Let's get this over with, what should I order?"

Helen sighed. She could already tell this was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

Nikola settled down somewhat over the course of the next hour, although Helen wasn't sure if it was the food or her slipping her phone out of his line of sight into her purse.

"This is _incredible_ ," he told her, cramming the last slice of pizza into his mouth. "Why don't you eat this every day?"

"Well, it's not what I would call healthy," Helen said, leaning back and watching him with amusement. The rest of them had already finished their dinner, and one of the owners had come out to offer ice cream to Henry and Ashley. After that, she had offered to teach him how to fold napkins, and they were now sitting at the adjacent table with Ashley, who was pretending not to pay attention.

Nikola had elected to stay with Helen and finish off the remaining food, which suited Helen just fine. She had been hoping to get him alone tonight, and this was a perfect opportunity.

"Nikola," she began. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?" Having demolished every last scrap of food present, Nikola leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of wine.

"How have you been manipulating the electricity here?" Helen had been bursting with curiosity ever since that afternoon, but she kept her tone level.

Nikola smiled. "You mean this?" He held up a hand, and to her amazement Helen saw a tiny blue spark of electricity clinging to his fingers before fizzling out.

"You may not want to do that in public," she warned, putting a hand on his wrist and lowering his arm. "But yes. I've never seen anything like it before."

"How flattering. I've been able to do it my whole life, as far as I can remember."

"But how is it possible?"

A grin split his features. "Ooh, an inquiring mind... I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but I've got some working theories."

Helen took a sip of her own wine. "What kind of working theories?"

He leaned over to Helen, who found herself leaning in as well until their faces were only inches apart.

"I suppose your painfully incompetent assistant told you where I said Andalasia was located?"

Helen cast her memory back to the other afternoon. "I believe you said it was past the Dark Forest near the Sea of Forgetfulness." Which, to Will's credit, did sound rather nonsensical.

"Nice. Right, so the forest is…" He waved a hand, careful not to spill any of his wine. "Well, not exactly a tourist destination. There are seams of energy – magic, most people call them – running throughout our whole land, but they ruptured somehow in the forest, or got all twisted around, and now – "

"I'm sorry," Helen interrupted. She had snorted a few seconds before. "But… magic? Really?"

"Not magic," Nikola said, eyes lighting up. "Not really. It _can_ be understood, if you just take the time. I've spent my life trying to figure it out: what causes it, how it can be used. With great success, if I do say so myself, even if my work is criminally underappreciated..."

They were interrupted at that moment by their waiter setting the bill down in front of Helen, which gave her an opportunity to absorb the bizarre information he was giving her.

She looked over at Nikola as the waiter left. He was watching her a little nervously. Perhaps he was afraid she would rethink her decision to let him stay with her, declare him insane, and throw him out.

Perhaps she should. Magic, other worlds… it was all straight out of a fairy tale. Nikola's story was ridiculous, but she had seen his strange abilities for herself firsthand, multiple times. So she would give him the benefit of the doubt. (And it gave her a strange pang now to think of Nikola out there all alone, friendless and wandering in a strange place.)

"About the Dark Forest," she prodded.

His face cleared, and he gave her a tentative smile. It was much different than his usual smirks: soft and gentle and a little uncertain. Helen smiled back, encouraging him to go on.

"Right. It's not a fun place most of the time. All that raw energy seeping out… It's done some pretty weird things to the animal life, to say nothing of the forest itself. And, well, I sort of grew up there."

Helen's eyebrows went up.

"It wasn't too bad, most of the time," he said quickly. "I mean, you know, an odd goblin attack here, a sentient tree there. I figured the place out pretty quickly. In case you hadn't noticed, I _am_ a genius. It was kind of exciting, actually."

From the way he was talking… "You were by yourself?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "At first, yeah. My family was – gone." His voice was very quiet.

Helen reached out to lay a hand over his, squeezing it. "I'm sorry." There was a far longer story behind this, she was sure, but if anyone understood the need to keep some things hidden far beneath the surface, it was Helen.

"It was a long time ago." His dismissive words were hardly in line with the way he was gripping her hand back, but Helen understood that too, and looked away for a few moments to give him space to collect himself.

"You said you were alone 'at first,'" she ventured after a while, curiosity getting the best of her. "There were other people living there, then?"

The atmosphere lightened as Nikola's lips quirked. "Uh. Not exactly _people_ in the strictest sense of the word…"

There was a short pause.

"Please don't tell me you were raised by pigeons."

"Oh no, of course not." Nikola chuckled. "There were no pigeons living in those woods."

"Oh, thank God," Helen muttered, not sure if she could have taken that news with a straight face.

"No, no, it was a nest of giant spiders."

A longer pause.

"Giant spiders," Helen repeated in monotone.

"Not the man-eating ones, naturally. Where else did you think I got the silk for my clothes?" He sounded as if he were slightly disappointed in her for forgetting this obvious point.

"Of course." Helen pinched her nose, trying to restrain a laugh. "Dear Lord."

Nikola gave her an innocent look. "Now was there anything else you wanted to know, or can I have your phone back?"

* * *

She paid the bill and they left a few minutes later, returning to the apartment with Helen's mind whirling after everything he had told her. As soon as Henry and Ashley were sent off to bed, she dragged Nikola away from the internet and insisted he show her the lightning again.

Nikola pouted at the loss of the phone for a few minutes, but eventually complied with a grin, and held the sparks in his hand for several minutes while Helen peered at them, mesmerized.

"Mom, Nikola!" Henry tumbled into the room, clutching a book with a determined expression. He was thrown off whatever his mission was by the electricity in Nikola's palm, and stood staring at it for several seconds.

"Wow," he breathed.

Helen shot a look at Nikola, and he extinguished the light with a smug expression. "Henry, tomorrow's a school day. You should be in bed."

He held up the book, looking embarrassed. "Yeah, I, uh, I wondered if Nikola would read me a story?" he said in a rush.

Helen firmly dismissed the offended feeling that he had asked Nikola and not her – after all, Nikola was new and funny and had superpowers. It was only natural Henry should think he was cooler than his mother for a while.

"What sort of story?" Nikola asked. "I hope it's not as depressing as the ones in that book you showed me. This world seems like a _terrible_ place to be a scientist."

"Nope," Henry said, clambering onto the couch and squeezing between them, pushing the book onto Nikola. "Here."

"The Little Mermaid?" Nikola read. He glanced at Helen, who nodded at him.

"Come on," she said, chuckling. "Read."

"Ok, let's see," he muttered. "Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom under the sea…"

Nikola had a very smooth voice, that rose and fell rhythmically as he read. Helen knew this story so well that she barely listened to the actual words, focusing instead on his rich tone, or the way she could hear him smiling sometimes.

Before she knew it, her eyelids were flickering closed, her head dropping against the couch cushion. She remained awake stubbornly, some part of her half-conscious mind unwilling to miss a moment of his soft voice speaking next to her, until he stopped abruptly and Helen's eyes opened.

Nikola was looking down at Henry, and it was clear why he had stopped. Henry was fast asleep.

"So much for not boring my audience," he said ruefully.

"I wouldn't be too offended," Helen said, yawning. "He's usually asleep an hour ago."

"Maybe, but I seem to have put you to sleep too," he pointed out with amusement.

Helen cleared her throat, sitting up a bit. "Well. It's been a long week."

"Right. Sorry."

She smiled at him. "No need to apologize, Nikola. You've certainly made things around here more interesting."

He flashed her a grin.

Helen yawned again before standing, picking up Henry and carrying him back to his room. Nikola followed her, standing next to her in the doorway after she had put him to bed.

"He's a good kid," he said.

Helen turned out the light and closed the door, smiling. "He certainly is. They both are."

"Yeah, Ashley still hates me though."

She shook her head, chuckling. "She's suspicious by nature, that's all. Just give her a little more time."

"Well, I'm glad it didn't take you that long." Nikola gave her a look which she was certain he intended to be melting, even if his mischievous dimpled grin rather ruined the effect.

Helen rolled her eyes. But she was glad too, glad she had found him and that she had let him stay. She could hardly remember a time when she had laughed as much as she did around him. She'd forgotten how good it felt.

"I guess she didn't get it from you."

Helen froze.

It was only a single sentence, one lighthearted comment that Nikola didn't even realize the import of, but the warm, peaceful atmosphere she'd let herself sink into evaporated immediately. Memories flooded through her: kneeling on the floor comforting a sobbing Ashley as she poured out her terror at what she might become, the months of living in fear before the police had finally captured her father, the unspoken dread now that he would escape someday, no matter how unlikely it was – and even further back, a dark, filthy alley, heart pounding, hand shaking on her gun as her world turned upside down.

"No," she said sharply, turning away from Nikola. "She didn't."

"Helen?" He must have seen the change in her expression before she could hide it from him – there was open worry in his voice. "Are – are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. Anger rose to the surface: at herself for letting it still get to her after so long, at Nikola for slipping right past her barriers and lulling her into comfort and laughter and then ruining it in an instant.

It wasn't his fault, really – it wasn't her fault either – but the anger persisted. "Just go to bed, Nikola," she bit out.

Helen changed course from her bedroom to the front door. What she needed now was to go up to the roof, get out into the cool night air, and let herself calm down. Nikola she left standing behind her in the hallway with a stricken expression, his hand reaching out towards her.

She heard him though, before she slammed the door shut, regret and sorrow lacing the voice she had been falling asleep listening to just a few minutes before.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then she was gone.


End file.
